


Flowers for a Lady

by High_Holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 19:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/High_Holmes/pseuds/High_Holmes
Summary: John has a habit of stealing flowers from a garden that is along the road he walks.Sherlock is interested in learning more about the girl this stranger is stealing his flowers for.





	Flowers for a Lady

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea off a tumbler post. I think it works, you always see flower shop AUs this is similar it just lacks the "shop" part. Also, I'm not good at summaries if you couldn't tell.

It was the 1st of September, John walked down the same little back road that he always walks down on the 1st of each month. He kept switching his gaze from the road ahead of him and the ground under his feet. He kept his thoughts busy with trivial things like the upcoming rugby match or the things he needed to buy from the store. He definitely didn’t think about where he was going.

He follows the curve in the road where he is greeted with a few houses right along the road. He has his eyes on the last house on the left, the one with the pretty garden right out front. As he walks closer he can actually see the different flowers that are growing. Some new flowers have been planted but the selection largely remains the same.

He stops in front of the small fence that surrounds the flowers and looks up at the house. It looks empty like always, John doesn’t have a clue who lives there. After a moment he looks back at the flowers that are the closest to the fence he is standing by. He only spends a minute or two deciding which ones to take.

He ends up picking a few purple anemones and purple irises, he was liking the color purple today. He was about to walk away when his eyes got caught on a bunch of red amaryllis flowers. He picked only one and added it to the center of his self-made bouquet. He turned to walk away again, but this time he was stopped by a voice. 

~~~

Sherlock had always liked flowers, they were good for bees and he liked those too. He would sit in his families garden when he was younger watching them buzz about the flowers. As he grew he learned there was more to flowers than just their looks and usefulness to bees. They had meanings that most people didn’t know. 

Over time he learned all of those meaning. He could tell stories by creating specialized bouquets. When he was young he was pleased with himself when he picked a few flowers for his mother. She just thought it a sweet gesture from her youngest son and put them in a vase on the dining room table. He knew the flowers spoke of her importance to him. He would be loath to admit it now but he even left a few flowers on his brother desk.

When he grew old enough to move away from his parents he got his own house. It was small but good enough for him, it had a garden. He had a few beehives in the back and once he was good at caring for them he added more to his house. He started to plant flowers in the front that he liked the most and that could tell the best stories. He also experimented as to which made the best honey.

About a year after he moved in he noticed something odd. His flowers were disappearing. It was never a lot, only enough for a small bouquet. That wasn’t the strangest thing though, they disappeared on a schedule. They would always be taken on the 1st of the month, never before and never after. This lead to him spending a whole day every month watching his garden from his bedroom window. On that day, around three o’clock he saw a man approach his fence. 

He was blond and shorter than most men. He was also most likely around Sherlock’s age if not a bit older. It was curious, he always looked at the house as if to see if anyone was home. He never noticed Sherlock in the window because Sherlock didn’t want him to.

Sherlock didn’t know much more than he could deduce about the man. He was in med school, at the university in the town nearby, he also played for their rugby team. Also, it wasn't really a deduction but in Sherlock’s opinion, he was attractive. He didn’t like the fact that he was probably stealing his flowers to give them to a girl.

So, on the 1st of September, he decided to do something about his flower thief.

~~~

“I hope she’s pretty.” Said a deep voice from behind him. John spun around and looked at the man standing on the front step of the house. “If you’re stealing flowers for her.”

John fumbled for something to say, “ I... um, it wa- I... Sorry.” He finally ended up saying as the man walked closer, he didn’t know what to do. The man stopped in front of him and waited, for what, John didn’t know so he just held the flowers out to him.

“Im flattered,” the man teased, “but you can keep them. On one condition.” John looked up at the man confused as he waited for him to continue. “I want to come with you, to make sure the girl those are for is pretty enough to warrant flower theft.” 

John was shocked and didn’t know how to tell him that the flowers weren't for a date. He tried to explain somehow, “But… you… they’re n-”

“Come on let's go,” The man interrupted him as he walked past John and down the road. “Hurry up, you’re meant to lead the way.”

John hurried to catch up to the man and once he did he matched his pace. They didn’t talk much. After a few minutes, John asked, “Who are you then?”

“Sherlock Holmes.” Replied the man.

~~~

As they walked Sherlock took a few glances at the thief. He learned that his name was John.

~~~

John had no idea why he was letting this happen. He didn’t know how to tell the man his assumption was wrong, so he said nothing as they continued down the road. After the exchange of names, they stayed silent until they reached the cemetery. 

Sherlock’s steps faltered slightly as John lead him through the gate and he quietly said, “Oh.” to himself. John continued to lead them through the headstones until he stopped in front of one in the back corner.

John sat down in front of the grave and placed the flowers at the base. Sherlock still stood for a moment, obviously confused and slightly uncomfortable about the entire situation, before he sat down next to John. John looked at the name on the stone, just like Sherlock was doing. He looked at the familiar letters that spelled out “Lily Watson”. 

He finally decided to tell Sherlock, “I tried to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“Was she your mother?” He asked in response.

“Yes. She died a few years back in a car accident. I came home from school to my dad crying over an empty bottle and his phone.” John said, still looking at the name. Sherlock glanced over at him trying to decipher what he said. 

“You were close then, with your mother?” He didn’t know what else to say, he was never good with emotions but he didn’t want to just sit in silence. 

“Yeah, we were. She was the one who understood me. My dad didn’t drink much before she died but if on the rare occasion he had one too many beers she was the one who protected me and my sister. My dad got worse after she died.” He paused to take a breath, then went back to talking about his mother. “She was always there. She loved me for who I was. She seemed to admire all of my successes and all of my flaws.”

“She sounds like an amazing person,” Sherlock said.

“Yeah, she was,” John replied. “So many things changed once she was gone. Harry, my sister that is, had to finally move out. Like I said, my mum protected us, my dad didn’t like having queer kids.” He took a breath as he continued his story, “ I could have gone with her I suppose. I didn’t, I was too scared. I thought I could handle my dad even on the worst nights, thought I could get away with it because I was bi, I was wrong.”

At that, he stood up, touched the top of the headstone and started to walk towards the exit. Sherlock quickly stood and followed. John stayed silent until they were back on the road walking to Sherlock’s house.

“I had a girlfriend for a while so my dad was ok at first, didn’t think I was gay like Harry. Then we broke up and I met James Sholto. He was new to the school and we started to talk. My dad found out about James eventually, that’s when I had to leave. I didn’t go far though, I still had school and I didn’t want to stop visiting my mum. I rented a little bedsit in town.”

John finished his story as they reached Sherlock’s house and he stopped in front of the fence. “Sorry, for taking your flowers. I’ll stop, I can buy some in town from now on.” He started to walk past Sherlock when he spoke.

“John, you can take whatever flowers you want, I don’t mind.” He paused, “Would you like to come in for some tea?” He asked. Sherlock didn’t know why he did it, he felt like a fool for even assuming John would agree to tea with the person he steals flowers from. 

“Ok.” Said John surprising both of them. He agreed and started something new, this was the beginning of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. 

~~~

Sometimes Sherlock thinks back to the first time they met. He doesn’t know if John knows the secrets that are held in flowers or the stories they can tell. However, when he thinks back to the flowers that John stole on that day he can’t help but to think that John chose wisely whether he knew it or not.

**Author's Note:**

> ~Amaryllis - Symbolic of splendid beauty. It is also used to indicate worth beyond beauty.  
> ~Anemone - Indicates fading hope and a feeling of having been forsaken.  
> ~Purple Iris - Symbolic of wisdom and compliments.


End file.
